On Labels and Kissing (and walking home in the dark)
by PsilentAsInCjelli
Summary: I should have felt bad. I should have thought, you know, "poor guy" or something, first of his own species he's seen on Earth that didn't have slugs in their heads and we didn't even know if they'd survive the trip back home, "poor guy." What I actually felt was a stab of – something, white-hot not-quite-anger, eating away at my insides, making me feel sick. (Post-38, Ax/Marco)


Relevant book excerpts (book is Ax's POV, fic is Marco's POV)

–

 _"They have another use for mouths," I said._

 _"In addition to eating and making mouth-sounds?"_

 _"Yes. Would you like to experience it?"_

 _"Is it pleasurable?" she asked._

 _I shrugged my large human shoulders. "I do not know. I have never performed the action before. It requires two individuals, each possessing a minimum of one mouth."_

–

 _{And this is why you care for these humans?}_

 _I thought of the human hosts who had made a shield of their bodies to protect my friends. Thought of the many, many, uncountable times Prince Jake or Rachel or Cassie or Marco or Tobias had risked death to help me._

 _{Yes, I said. That is why I like humans. It is all about the cinnamon buns.}_

–

 _{My fight is here,} I said._

 _{Is it because you still do not like me?} She tried for a lighthearted tone._

 _I nodded. {I still do not like you,} I said._

 _I left the ship. Walked away from my chance to be home again. I rejoined my friends._

 _The_ _ **Ralek River**_ _took off. Did it escape Visser Three's dragnet? Did it make it safely into Zero-space?_

 _I do not know._

 _I walked away and did not look back._

–

 _Cassie put her arm around my shoulder. It is a human gesture of comfort. "You okay?" she asked._

 _"Why wouldn't he be?" Marco said. "You heard him. He didn't even like her."_

–

 _We walked along the dark streets, my friends and I. My more-than-friends. We laughed, so relieved to simply be alive. We joked._

 _Cassie held my hand, and in the darkness where no one could see, I cried._

* * *

 **!**

* * *

I wasn't in the greatest mood.

And the thing was, I should have been. Everyone else was. We were together, and we were alive, and we had – for probably the third time that week – saved the human race from certain doom.

We were laughing. Joking. Me included. I'm pretty good at that: laughing and joking when I feel terrible.

And I _did_. And I knew why. And I wished I didn't.

Ax was crying. It was pretty dark out, so maybe he thought he was hiding it, but I could _hear_ him. He was crying over Estrid and Cassie was holding his hand and I was just –

I was _so_ angry.

Angry at Ax. Angry at me. Angry at Estrid. And not even about what I _should_ have been angry at her for – germ warfare, attempted annihilation of my species as a regrettable side effect, _that_ whole thing. Sure. Whatever. That kind of horror show is to be expected in my life lately. And hey, she changed her mind, good for her.

No. I was mad at Estrid because Ax was crying over her.

And it wasn't righteous anger on behalf of my comrade-in-arms. It wasn't a noble, compassionate, "how dare you toy with my friend's emotions"-type situation.

It was jealousy. Plain and simple. Boring. Annoying. I didn't have the time _or_ the energy to waste on it.

But there it was.

And you know what? It was a _lot_ easier to focus on than the _other_ thing that was bothering me.

Yeah, our little group breakdown had been staged. That didn't mean we hadn't made some decent points. Didn't make us any less screwed now that we knew the Andalites weren't in any hurry to get here and help.

{It has to be believable,} Cassie had said. {And more than that, it has to be what they _want_ to believe. That we're just a bunch of helpless children who can't keep it together under pressure. But we'll need to be more subtle than – we'll need to be subtle.}

{Agreed.} I'd tilted my wolf's head respectfully in Cassie's direction. And then I'd said what she hadn't. Wouldn't. {This isn't us standing around stroking David's ego, hoping he'll take the bait. Most of these guys are trained adults. We don't need a script. We need realism.}

{We need to improvise,} Cassie said grimly.

{Exactly.} I would have grinned, if I'd had my own mouth at the time. {So just be your lovely, optimistic selves, kids. Rachel, try not to draw blood.}

Realism. Believability. Right. We may have overshot, just a little. As far as I could tell, the only thing standing between our concocted scenario and _actual_ reality was our own collective stubbornness.

Sometimes I can feel proud about things like that.

This was not one of those times.

And I decided, for my own sake, for the _group's_ sake, I was better off thinking about other things just then.

So I took Ax's other hand. Casually. Without looking at him, or at anybody else. Took a deep breath and let our fingers intertwine. Squeezed.

He squeezed back. Said nothing.

I felt Cassie looking at me and refused to meet her gaze. Stared down at my feet and bit my lip as I heard her drift carefully away from us, closer to Jake.

I slowed down. Ax followed my lead. The others pulled ahead of us. Not dangerously far, and we all knew where we were going.

"So you didn't like her, huh?" Bad opening. Couldn't think of anything else.

Ax shrugged. Said nothing.

I kept my mouth clenched shut until I knew I wasn't going to say anything horrible. "Think they'll tell the fleet to hurry up?"

"I doubt," Ax croaked, cleared his throat, and started again. "I doubt the influence of a coward and a young female are going to be particularly – par- _tic_ -yew-lir-leeee – helpful to us on that front."

"Yeah? Say 'female' like that a little louder, I'm sure Rachel's bored enough to kick your butt. Which that _coward_ totally saved, by the way."

He shut up.

I shut up.

After a few seconds, he cleared his throat again. "Nevertheless," he said, "that is how the military will think. Thhhhink. We cannot count on Estrid and Gonrod to speed their progress. Assuming they even..."

His voice trailed off and broke.

And I should have felt bad. I should have thought, you know, _poor guy_ or something, first of his own species he's seen on Earth that didn't have slugs in their heads and we didn't even know if they'd survive the trip back home, _poor guy_.

What I actually felt was a stab of – something, white-hot not-quite-anger, eating away at my insides, making me feel sick. Physically sick. And terrified. Is that what jealousy does?

See, I thought I already knew what jealousy felt like. What it did to a person – or to me, anyway. I thought I'd already experienced it. I've had my share of crushes. I've had my share of watching those crushes be happy with someone else. It hurt, a little. Hurt my pride, I guess. Hurt in other ways, but not much. I'd see them walking down the hallway at school, holding hands, and I'd be sad for a second.

Sad.

Kid stuff.

I realized it suddenly. _Kid stuff_. _Kid stuff!_ _I almost_ _ **died**_ _yesterday, same thing tomorrow probably! I thought seeing some girl I barely know holding hands with some guy I barely know actually_ _ **hurt**_ _? I thought that was_ _ **pain**_ _?_

I stopped walking. We could catch up to the others when we were done – talking? Fighting? I didn't even know what I thought was about to happen. I did know this feeling was starting to scare me. I did know I would rather end up arguing with Ax than keep talking to _myself_ about it.

"You did like her," I said, trying to sound calm. And then, just to be absolutely sure he knew where I was coming from: " _I know_ you liked her."

"She was prepared to utterly destroy two sentient races, Marco," he said, sounding annoyed. Tired. Exasperated. "The second one _yours_ , and written off as acceptable collateral damage."

"Right, sure." I waved all that off with my free hand. "But before that. Before that, you liked her."

"I did not _trust_ her."

"But you _liked_ her."

Ax ripped his hand out of mine, grabbed my shoulder, spun me to face him. I was shocked, for less than a second – didn't freeze, can't afford that kind of instinct anymore – and then the shock was replaced with something like satisfaction: I had provoked him and he had reacted. Good.

His grip on my shoulder was painful and I didn't know whether or not I could realistically put that down to him forgetting how strong human hands are. "I have asked you many times what we are _doing_ ," he hissed. "And you have _never answered_. So yes, I _liked her_. She is highly intelligent, and capable in battle, and beautiful, and I do not know what _we are_ , Marco! So yes, Marco, yes, after _months_ of isolation, I met an Andalite my own age, and I _liked_ her! And then I didn't, and now she is gone, and soon she might be dead, and either way _I_ will never see her again." He shook me. Kept shaking me. "So you can stop –" No, I realized. He wasn't shaking me. He was just shaking. "You can stop – worrying – about –"

I grabbed him. Held him. Let him cry on my shoulder for a minute. Felt like a jerk. Felt angry about feeling like a jerk.

"Human bodies," he mumbled, and then had to stop, gasp for breath, "are very – difficult – to stop – once they have decided – to become upset."

I snorted. "What, and Andalites aren't?"

"Not – like this. At least – we can _speak_."

Oh. Right. I cleared my throat. "I mean. You still could."

{I am aware of that, thank you.}

I winced. Thought-speak isn't just words, you know? It's a whole language of low-level telepathy, and when you don't actively stop it, it can convey emotions in a way that is so much more painful to experience than just listening to someone cry. Which I also happened to be doing.

Listening. Not crying.

Ax let go of me. Stepped away. Took a deep breath. "Having said – well. Being. Whatever we are. I feel it is necessary to tell you that I – that Estrid – that we. Kissed."

I blinked.

Realized I'd been acting like that was _exactly_ what they did, but somehow the actual possibility hadn't occurred to me. In the face of this new information, somehow, the jealousy just... stopped. Everything stopped. I felt nothing. "Which kind of kiss?" I asked, stalling for time while my brain figured out how it wanted to react.

Ax sighed. "Human."

"Just human?"

"Yes. It was – my hands were on her face." My heart jumped into my throat. Started beating double-time. But Ax kept talking. "But it was not... deliberate. Only in the way humans sometimes do. I am not sure how to explain the difference."

"But there is one?"

"Yes."

I believed him. I didn't _like_ that I believed him, just like that, no strings attached, but I did. _He didn't have to tell you his hands were on her face_ , I reasoned, trying to logic my way to the conclusion I'd already latched onto. _He didn't have to tell you they kissed at all. Why lie about the last, smallest detail?_

And there went whatever emotion had been trying to take root. Anger, maybe. Grief. Whatever. Gone. My pulse stopped skyrocketing, started going back down. Gradually.

I kicked at the ground and wondered why it mattered so much that it was just a human kiss.

Whatever. _Whatever_. I wasn't in the mood for introspection.

Well. That's a lie. I'm always in the mood for introspection.

But I _really_ wasn't in the mood for the mood that introspection would leave me in.

So I asked, abruptly, "Why'd you kiss her in the first place?"

Ax ducked his head. "Partly it was to let her believe I was too enamored to possibly see through whatever scheme she was involved in."

"Partly?"

"Partly."

Still I felt nothing. No anger. No sadness. No _happiness_ , certainly, but nothing else, either. I forced a laugh. "I guess we _really_ gotta figure out what we're doing, huh?"

"The idea hadn't occurred to me."

That startled a real laugh out of me. "And you say you don't get sarcasm."

"I am working on it. Was that a successful use of the technique?"

"A-plus, Ax-man, A-plus."

He smiled. I think. It was dark out. Getting darker. "We should keep walking," I said. "Catch up to the others."

"Yes, we should."

We looked at each other. He leaned down. I stretched up, refused to stand on tip-toe.

Forehead to forehead, just breathing, and it was dark enough out that I could keep my eyes open and not think too hard about whose borrowed features I was looking at.

I brushed one palm against the side of his face, smearing tear tracks. Gross. Andalite kissing: romantic stuff.

His hand on _my_ face.

It was a human hand and I'm a human and he was a human, at the time, and I'm never sure what exactly either of us is supposed to get out of the hands-on-face thing in that kind of scenario, but you know what? It felt nice.

Then the human kiss. I guess it's not actually any less weird, in practice. Hands-on-face versus face-on-face, I mean.

Then we stopped both kinds of kissing and just held on to each other for a minute. Ax rested his head on my shoulder again, but he wasn't crying now.

"I told Estrid," he said, quietly, "that I had never done that."

My brain kicked back into high gear. I could see it – Ax playing the curious innocent, the tour guide who's lived here a week, _there's this odd thing humans do, would you like to try it_. Seeming totally unwary. Letting her believe she could trick him. Had tricked him. Didn't need to worry about keeping him oblivious, didn't need to be careful.

And beneath that, beneath the brilliance, something even better: Ax told me about kissing Estrid. Ax told Estrid he'd never kissed anyone.

He had told me the truth, when he didn't have to. But he'd outright lied to her, when he could have just played coy and still kept the naive shtick, bashful shrug, act embarrassed about falling prey to human habits. Nope. He _lied_.

I was thrilled.

I am not the nicest person in the world.

"Smart," I said, grinning. "Real smart."

"I thought you might approve. Vvvvuh."

"Yeah. Come on, let's catch up."

We took each other's hands again. I started forward but he stayed put, pulled me to a stop.

"Marco."

"We'll talk," I said firmly. Squeezed his hand. "I promise. But for now, let's just go home."

He squeezed back. And said, insistently, "Food first."

"Food first," I agreed, laughing.

We ran after the others.


End file.
